The 5 Ghosts Canada Met Throughout His Life (And 1 Bonus)
by IntrospectiveMess
Summary: Based on Matthew/Canada being able to see ghosts, I present this story! The title sums it up. He meets 5 ghosts throughout history, and there's a bonus at the end! Human and country names are both used. Ghosts that have made an appearance so far: Joan of Arc, Holy Rome
1. Joan of Arc

Joan

A/N

So I'm absolutely obsessed with the head cannon that Canada can see ghosts, so this story was created! Well, the title is pretty straight forward. Five ghosts Matthew will meet, and then I'll throw in a bonus if this story gets enough popularity. I will update based on how many reviews/follows I get. Well, enough talking. Buckle in, because it's going to be a wild ride!

Joan of Arc

For the short period of time Matthew had lived with Francis, he had so far adored him. Francis was always smiling, he smelled of French wine, and he taught Mathew how to cook. He really couldn't have asked for anything more.

But even Matthew, as young as he was, had to admit, he really didn't know too much about Francis. He knew that he hated a man he called "Angleterre" (and sometimes "Black Sheep" and "Bastard"). He had two other friends he consistently went out drinking with. He also had a book he kept hidden on the bottom shelf that Matthew wasn't supposed to look at. And that was really all Matthew had to say about his older brothers past that he had attempted to piece together.

Except the book, of course. Matthew was absolutely convinced that all of his questions would be answered if he just opened it and took a peak. But whenever he brought it up around Francis, he was quickly discouraged.

"Francis," Matthew asked him while eating breakfast one morning.

"Why can't I look in the book on the bottom shelf? What's inside it?"

The corners of Francis' mouth quickly down despite his attempts to smile.

"Ah, Matthew, that book is a story for another day."

Matthew, however, wouldn't be persuaded.

"But Francis", he whined. "Can't I just look? For a little bit?"

"There are things in there that you wont quite understand just yet. You can look when you are older, I promise you."

And that was the end of the discussion. Matthew didn't mention the book for a while (in order to avoid a full-blown argument), but he never completely forgot about it.

So when, a couple of months after this discussion, Francis told Matthew that he was going out with his friends and he wouldn't be back for a couple of hours, could you really blame Matthew for letting his curiosity get the best of him?

He waited for a full ten minutes to make sure that Francis wasn't coming back before he made his way to the bottom shelf in the living room. He took the dusty leather-bound book and sat in one of Francis' oversized armchairs. He blew the dust off of the cover, took a breath, and opened the book.

And he was immediately disappointed. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he expected to find. He was greeted with old letters that had been constantly folded and re-folded. He could make out a few of the words, such as "God", "Amor", and "Jeanne." The rest was too faded to read clearly. Matthew sighed, came to terms with the fact that he wasn't about to find anything incredible, and shut the book, only for a small photo to slip out from the pages. He picked it up and observed.

The picture depicted two people, a man and a woman, standing side by side, both smiling and in love. Matthew recognized the man almost instantly. It was Francis, yet he looked somehow younger. Matthew could never picture him being any younger than he already was, but he had more pressing matters to focus on. The woman. He had never seen her before. She was young and blond. And pretty. Very pretty. Matthew tried to memorize her face. Caught up in a trance, he didn't notice the voice coming from across the room. Nor did he notice the figure coming closer and closer until it was directly next to him.

"Looking at my photo?"

Matthew nearly fell out of his chair. It was over. Had been caught breaking the rules and looking in the stupid book. He looked up.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it, please don't be mad-" it took him a few seconds of babbling to realize that Francis wasn't the figure he was looking at. It- or she, rather- was a woman. A pretty blond woman that Matthew could have sworn that he had seen before. The mystery woman spoke again.

"The picture. Do you like it?" Matthew looked from her eyes to the photo in his hand, then back to her, then back to the picture. Realization dawned on him as he nearly fell out of his chair again.

"... This is you."

The woman looked surprised to hear him respond.

"Yes, it is."

"...You're very pretty."

The mystery woman smiled and laughed.

"Thank you, that's very sweet of you."

"Um... Miss? Who are you? Did you know Francis?"

She looked sad, but smiled for Matthew's sake.

"Yes, we were... friends."

"Oh... why aren't you friends anymore?"

Before he received his response, he heard the front door open. Matthew and his mysterious new friend looked at each other in shock before he stuffed the photo into the book and practically threw the dusty item on the bottom shelf before standing up and turning to greet Francis.

"Francis!"

"Ah, Matthieu! Were you... talking to someone?"

Matthew beamed.

"Yeah, I was talking to this lady..." but when he turned around, she had completely vanished. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but to no avail. Where had she gone?

"...who? What lady?"

"I...uh..." Matthew had heard stories of people seeing things that weren't really there (like that Angleterre-black-sheep-bastard guy), and the last thing Matthew wanted was to be placed under that category, so he quickly covered his trail.

"Oh... I guess it was a dream."

"Ah, tired? Well, I suppose it's late... how about you go to sleep?"

Matthew couldn't be happier to agree and rush off to his room. Maybe it was a dream after all...

He didn't see the mystery woman again for a solid few weeks, and he honestly assumed he had fallen asleep while reading a book and dreamt about the woman because she was in the photo. So when he was waken up in the middle of the night by a voice he hadn't heard for weeks, he nearly screamed.

"Shh child, don't be afraid... Your'e safe."

"I don't understand... who are you?"

"I... it's so much more complicated than that."

Matthew nearly screamed in frustration.

"Can't you give me a name?"

"...Jeanne d'Arc."

In his state of shock, Matthew couldn't help but be blunt. He had heard the name on only one occassion, but he was pretty sure of one thing.

"But you're dead." The lady, this "Jeanne" woman, flinched slightly.

"Yes."

"So you're a... ghost?"

"Yes, child."

Matthew began to hyperventilate, sure he was locked into some sort of nightmare.

"But you can't be a ghost, you're standing right here... I don't understand. How can I see you?"

"Some things can't be explained that simply, dear."

Matthew didn't have the energy to fight her. He wanted to go back to sleep and realize this was all a dream in the morning.

"Why are you visiting me?"

"I was checking up on Francis, and then you saw my photo, and started talking to me... Could you blame me for being curious?"

"I... I don't know. I just wanna go to sleep. I don't want to be like the eyebrow man."

"I'm sorry, who, dear?"

"The eyebrow man. He sees stuff that isn't there, and everybody thinks he's crazy for it."

"Oh... you mean Arthur."

"Is that his name? Who is he? And how did you die, if you don't mind me asking? Are you here often? And how did you know Francis?"

Jeanne smiled at the child's sudden burst of energy and questions, but she knew the longer she stayed, the more complicated the situation would become (not that it wasn't complicated enough already).

"Well, I must be going."

"Wait, you can't leave now! I have so many questions!"

"Shh, child, you don't want to wake up Francis. Don't worry, I'll always be with you... I must be going now."

"But wait..."

"And please, don't tell anybody you saw me here. I don't want anything to be difficult for you, it seems that Francis really cares for you."

"Ok, I won't!"

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise!"

"Then, goodbye. Until we meet again!"

"Jeanne, don't go..." But the woman disappeared before his eyes. Matthew looked around his room to make sure she was definitely gone before he went to sleep, but he didn't sleep a wink, nor did he mention his encounter to Francis the next morning, or week, or year. Besides, nobody would ever believe him...

But she was only the first ghost Matthew met, and there were many more to come.

A/N And that's the chapter! As always, criticisms are always welcome! My other story will be updated next Friday if anyone's wondering. Thanks for reading!


	2. Holy Rome

A/N at bottom

Holy Roman Empire

The last few years for Matthew had been hell. He had been taken away from Francis and forced to live with Arthur. Then Alfred left Arthur, and Matthew had to deal with that situation, but that's not what this story is about.

Finally, Matthew had the chance to go visit Francis. He hadn't been to Paris in years, so they had a lot to catch up on.

The first few days had been wonderful. Francis had been under a lot of stress recently (what with the pesky French Revolution), so this vacation was well deserved.

Staying in his childhood room felt weird to Matthew, but the word "weird" couldn't even describe the events that transpired late one night.

It had been the day Matthew arrived. He was tired from traveling, and Francis was on the verge of sleep when he arrived. After a brief dinner, they went off to their separate rooms and fell asleep.

...

"PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!"

Well, there went sleep.

Matthew quickly sat up. What was going on? Is Francis OK? Is it a burglar? Demons? Matthew wouldn't describe himself as a fighter, and he stood no chance against any of these options. He should pretend like everything was fine and go back to sleep.

"PLEASE! I'M SORRY!"

Godamnit.

He stood up, took a breathe, and crept towards Francis' room, trying not to audibly cry. This was it. It's over. They'll both die here. He opened the door and came face to face with...

A child.

Well, not really a child, but for lack of a better word.

He had piercing blue eyes, blond hair, and wore a black cloak and hat.

Matthew glanced at Francis, who as it turns out wasn't dead, just having a nightmare.

"Who are you?" Matthew whispered, baffled at why this boy was hiding in his brothers room.

"You can see me?"

Oh.

Oh.

Well, no going back now.

"I-uh-... yeah... who are you?"

"You're Matthew, right?"

"I'm sorry, have we met before?"

"Hmm... I suppose it would have been a while ago..."

Seeing he wouldn't get a solid answer, Matthew took a different approach.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm just here to give Francis here some nightmares."

"You can do that?"

"Sure, why not?"

"But why?"

"... it doesn't matter."

Who was this kid?

"Come on, lets go to the kitchen. I don't want to wake him up. You can explain everything there."

"...fine."

The pair walked to the kitchen. Matthew considered grabbing a knife in case something went wrong, but he realized that it probably wouldn't matter. He wouldn't stand a chance. He took a seat at the kitchen table, and the mystery man sat across from him.

"Now, if you won't tell me your name, then at least tell me where you came from."

"You wouldn't know it."

"Try me."

"... Holy Rome."

"You're bullshitting me. That's not even a place anymore."

He looked almost... sad. Matthew wanted to apologize, but the kid had to be lying.

"Never mind, forget where you're from. How do you know Francis?"

"Maybe I should leave."

"No, tell me."

"It's fine, I probably shouldn't be here anyway."

"You have to tell me something."

"Fine... he killed me."

"You're joking."

"I wish I was."

"But why would he do that?"

"Ask him. He's the one that did it."

Matthew couldn't picture Francis killing a child. Not in cold blood like this guy was describing.

"So you came back here to scare him?"

"Pathetic, right? I rule Europe for a thousand years only to be reduced to this because of him and I broke my promise and there's nothing I can do about it-"

"Please calm down."

"You're right. I'm not going to solve anything sitting around here."

"Well... sure."

"I have to keep my promise!"

"... promise? What did you promise!"

"I can't let her down like that!"

"Who's 'her'? What did you promise her?"

"Goodbye Matthew! Off I go!"

"Where are you going?"

"To win back the love of my life! She's waiting for me!"

"Wait... what? Where is she waiting? You're not going to do anything weird, are you? And who are you? You still won't tell me your name!"

"Shh, you'll wake up Francis. Don't worry about me. I won't go seeking revenge."

"Revenge? What are you talking about?"

"I said don't worry!"

"Wow, that's reassuring."

"Now, goodbye! And keep your eyes open! You may be seeing me around soon."

"Good luck then. I'll... wait, see you around? What do you mean?"

The foreign-sounding stranger gave a half smile and marched out of the room.

Matthew crept to look at Francis, who was miraculously still asleep and no longer screaming.

Why did he always attract the weirdest people?

He walked back to his own room and sat on his bed, hoping for sleep, but he still replayed the conversation in his head.

"You may be seeing me around soon."

Whatever that was supposed to mean...

 **A/N**

 **And that's the chapter! As always, criticisms are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Native America

A/N at bottom

Native America

It had been a while since Matthew had some time to relax and visit his home country. The world was constantly full of war and drama, so it was nice to wander in the woods alone with his thoughts. Alfred was great and all, but he could be so... loud.

But in hindsight, maybe going into the woods alone at night wasn't the best idea.

There was a rustling in the bushes.

"Hello?" Matthew called out.

The rustling moved towards him. A dark figure emerged. It was far too large to be an animal, but what person would be here at this time of the night? The figure came closer.

"Who's there? I don't want a fight..."

The figure revealed itself to be a woman, dark haired and dark skinned. She looked to be older and tired, but her eyes were full of life.

"Oh, erm, who are you?" Matthew didn't expect this.

"You can see me, child?" Oh. _Oh_. It was going to be one of _those_ nights.

"I-uh- yeah..."

"Oh. Well, who are you then?" Wait, wasn't Matthew supposed to be the one asking questions?

"I'm Matthew... Matthew Williams."

"Matthew? Kanata, is that you? It's been so long!"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The nameless woman's face fell.

"No... I suppose you forgot. I'm Native America. I knew you when you were younger (practically raised you, but she left that part out)."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I guess I don't remember." Matthew knew he had seen this woman before, and they had been very close. But if this woman was really a ghost,and therefore dead, why bring up old, sad memories?

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you a ghost?" He didn't mean to sound so blunt, but oh well.

"Oh Matthew, look around. You don't see many of my people around here anymore, do you?"

Matthew tried to remember before the Europeans came. He remembered living with the Natives, celebrating their cultures. Now... not so much. But hold on, there was something else about those memories he was missing. Who was the ever-present woman he remembered? The woman who took care of him and Alfred? Hmm...

"No, I guess there aren't as many Natives left..."

"Of course not, history has chosen to leave us behind. The world is changing too fast, and it looks like I won't be around to see it. My, how you've grown."

"Wait, were will you go?"

"Where do any of us go, Matthew?"

He was angry. Angry that the world had to change and this woman, who he somehow knew, would lose all of her people and cultures. As a nation himself, he couldn't imagine what he would do under the same circumstances.

"Isn't there anything I can do?"

"My dear, one single person can't change history. This has been years in the making. Ever since the Europeans showed up on your coasts, it's been a struggle. Sometimes people won't ever get along, and all you and I can do is hope for peace in later years. Now, you've hears my rambling. It's time for me to go." She turned to walk back into the forest.

"But wait, how do I know you?"

She turned back and smiled.

"Goodbye, Matthew."

"Wait-"

"Don't worry. I'll always be around. You won't have to search too hard to find me. Please, I must be going now."

No, he had to remember before she left. Think, Matthew. Where had they met. Could she have been the woman from his memories who raised Matthew and Alfred? She must have been. But who was she? They just have had a close relationship. Maybe... Wait. Matthew looked up, tears in his eyes.

"Mom?"

She gave him one last nod and a smile.

"Goodbye Matthew."

She turned into the forest and disappeared.

A/N

And that's the chapter! As always, criticisms are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	4. Queen Elizabeth

**A/N at bottom**

Queen Elizabeth

While Matthew loved having his independence (if you want to call it that), he still enjoyed checking up on his former care taker, Arthur. Unfortunately, World War II was in full swing, and with that War came the London Blitz.

The bomb shelter that Matthew and Arthur lay hunkered down in was poorly lit, causing the bags under Arthurs eyes to darken and give his pale face the appearance of a skeleton. He hadn't slept properly in months with ned. , war raging in Europe, and tonight proved to be no exception.

Explosions echoing like cannons pounded the roof, ceasing all attempts at a conversation. Instead, the duo sat on the floor and let dust rain down on their shoulders. Matthew stared at a spec of lint on the floor, while Arthur fell asleep several times, only to wake up when the roof shook due to the force of the bombs. Both waited for daylight to prevail.

Matthew had to carry Arthur home the next morning. The Englishman was fast asleep, and he barely stirred when Matthew set him down in an armchair in the living room. He grabbed a blanket and threw it over Arthurs sleeping body. He turned around to find something to eat in the kitchen.

He poked around in the cupboard, but it looked like Arthur hadn't been eating much in recent days. He shuffled back into the living room to come face to face with a woman he had never met before. She had an air of importance about her, yet her eyes were kind and concerning.

"Oh, em, can I help you?" Matthew never hear her knock, and clearly Arthur didn't let her in, so he had some suspicions about this woman visit.

"I worry about him," she replied. She trained her gaze on Arthurs sleeping form.

"Who, Arthur?"

"I try to check up on him every once in a while. He tries to do everything, but he seems so exhausted. I wish he'd let someone else save the world for once."

"...Yeah, I suppose he does work too much."

"Do you know who I am?"

"I'm sorry, I can't say that I do."

"My, the times have changed. Well, you can call me Elizabeth."

"...Queen Elizabeth?"

"Yes, but that was quite a long time ago. Now I mainly keep to myself. In fact, you can do me a favor, right dear?"

"Of course."

"Look after him, will you? He needs someone to care about him, and I can't do it anymore."

Arthur began to stir.

"I promise I'll keep an eye out for him."

"Thank you. Oh look, he's waking up. Well, I best be off. Goodbye, Matthew."

"Goodbye, Elizabeth."

"Matthew, who are you talking to?" Arthur squinted his eyes and shifted in his oversized chair.

"Nobody, Arthur. You were dreaming. Go back to sleep, you should rest."

"Mmm-kay."

"Allright, I'm going to buy some food."

"G'bye."

Matthew left him to sleep. After all, the Blitz was sure to return.

 **A/N**

 **And that's the chapter! Criticism is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


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